


If You Go Crazy

by Thunderrrstruck



Series: Hell Bound [2]
Category: Psych (TV 2006), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Demons, Gen, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27085090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunderrrstruck/pseuds/Thunderrrstruck
Summary: Shawn drags Gus on a case against his will. What else is new?
Relationships: Burton "Gus" Guster & Shawn Spencer
Series: Hell Bound [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969825
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5
Collections: Whumptober





	If You Go Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 15 of Whumptober2020. Prompt: possession. Takes place before "See You In Hell" – my first work in the crossover world of Psychonatural.
> 
> I'm eating pineapple while I write this.

Gus aimed his handgun at the ceiling. “Shawn?” he called, hoping it was just his best friend and not another spirit to dispose of. _What does a man have to do to get out of the hunting life_ , he thought bitterly.

Shawn’s intentions were sound, but Gus’ heart just wasn’t able to tolerate any more stress that came with hunting. Statistically, his chances of surviving past age forty – should he continue his side job – were slim. He’d rather maximise the longevity of his life than live short and bright. Shawn was the opposite. Shawn would rather fly to the sun on a whim than take the safe road of mediocrity. Somehow, he’d end up surviving anyway, much to everyone's shock (and delight), but the cycle would continue, and viciously.

_“Come on, one last hunt together,” he had said. “I’ll even let you drive!”_

_“I always drive.”  
_

_“And I don’t have a car, anyway, so it works out great!" He grinned. "Come on, buddy!”  
_

All it had taken was a clap on the arm as Shawn breezed by in order for Gus to drop his preconceived notions of how his day would play out and head for the door.

_After a lengthy drive enduring Shawn's pitiful singing to every 80s hit on the radio, Gus felt the sweet sense of relief when he finally pulled up to their destination. If he had to hunt to get rid of godawful, pitchy karaoke, so be it._

_“I don’t think you even know what a melody is,” snapped Gus as he armed himself with a handgun._

_“I totally can sing,” Shawn defended. “And I’m hurt by your lack of belief in me.”_

_“Prove it, then.”  
_

_Gus watched Shawn’s creasing expression._

_" Man, I don't have to prove squat!"_

_“See? You can’t.”_

_“I_ won’t _, there’s a difference. And where’s the fun in singing perfectly, anyway? It’s just me and you in the car.”_

 _“I have_ ears _,” huffed Gus before shutting the trunk of the car. “Let's deal with this so you can clean all this hunter stuff from the trunk. I can’t have my boss getting the wrong idea.”_

_“They inspect The Blueberry?”  
_

_“It’s a company car, Shawn. You never know.”  
_

That was seven minutes ago, but it felt like a silent eternity. Since then, Shawn had split to investigate something on the first story, leaving Gus to man the ground floor. (He’d feel a little bit more manly if the hairs on his arms weren't sticking straight up and his fingers didn’t tremble ever so slightly. He hated hunting alone.)

Creeping for the next doorway, Gus called out a tentative “Shawn?”

Couldn’t they regroup and leave? Weren’t their other hunters in the world that could take care of this infestation?

“Sorry, you’re going to have to call a different name to come save you, _jack_.”

Gus whipped around. The barrel of his gun trained on hazel eyes and brown hair. Eyes wider than an owl's, he dropped his arms and gun, and thus his only source of protection, to his side.

“Hi, Gus,” the man said with perfect Shawn intonation. (It made sense, considering those were still his vocal cords being used; only, it wasn’t him who was using them.) Not-Shawn flitted those hazel eyes towards the lowered gun. “Good, good. For a second there, I thought you’d shoot your bestie.”

Gus shifted a couple inches backwards. He recalled the latin words needed to dispel demons from their hosts; he prayed he had enough time to say them.

“Get out,” he ordered for no other reason than to stall. _A plan_ , he needed a plan! His heart began beating out a tap. He’d settle for half of Shawn’s improvisational skills, even. Anything to get on top of the situation!

“Why would I?” Not-Shawn advanced on the mentally flailing hunter. His eyes snapped to black. No whites, no irises, all of it reflectionless shadow. “I’m about to have so much fun.”

**Author's Note:**

> The pineapple's all gone, now. Oh, what yum :D
> 
> Leave a review?


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